


Living with El: Hopper's Snow Ball Attempt

by FruitfulMind



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Hopper attempts make-up, Jim Hopper #1 dad, he's just trying to be a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:51:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruitfulMind/pseuds/FruitfulMind
Summary: Since Jim Hopper adopted Eleven, the whole year had been filled with things he's never done before. So, when he allows Eleven to go to Hawkin's Snow Ball, it's time for another first: make-up.





	Living with El: Hopper's Snow Ball Attempt

Jim should've taken art when he was in high school, or at the very least paid attention to Mrs. Mackenize's classes. He leaned over the table, swishing a too tiny brush in his large hand. As he admired his painted nails in the dim light, he wondered how exactly he got into this predicament.

Indeed, it might have started when he unknowingly adopted a child with unique powers, and allowed her to go out -- this first time -- to a dance. Maybe that was why Jim was painting his nails at 2 A.M., just a few days before the dance. His eyelids fluttered closed as he started to doze off, dreaming of the dance, El (Jane now, as she liked being called), and smoking a cigarette as he thought about how fucked up his life had become since the Upside-Down, since the Demogorgon, since all hell broke loose.

The blaring alarm beside the sleeping officer scared him awake. He jolted from the chair, toppling backwards as he realized the source of the noise. With a quick mumbled 'shit', he rushed to get ready; maybe in the blur of the morning, did he forget one _tiny_ detail.

He started grumbling for coffee the moment he stepped inside the station. An officer beelined for him, quiet as he handed handed Jim a manilla folder. With a glance to Jim's hand, he jokingly said, "wow, someone visited the nail salon," with a sly grin on his face. Other officers turned around at the comment, gawking, staring, and some even laughing at their rough and tumble chief toting purple nails.

"Can it, Callahan." Jim almost growled, daring not let his embarrassment show. He shifted his head to glance at the others, scowling until they got back to work; Callahan didn't catch the hint, continuing his teasing.

With a seemingly permanent smirk, he leaned back in his chair. "Just saying, purple is your color." He sorted the paperwork on his desk, before looking up to Jim. "So... got a new lady in your life?" Jim scowled at him again, but Callahan shrugged it off. Powell grimaced at his co-worker's antics, looking apologetic towards his boss.

Ignoring the restof the immature jabs, Jim stalked to his office. Once he was inside, he glanced down at his nails; they didn't come out too bad. Maybe El would like the color too.

 **The night of the ball:**  
"How the heck was this suppose to go again?" Jim mumbled to himself as he desperately tried to fix El's hair. His brows furrowed deeply as he fiddled with it, trying to style it up, then down. She didn't look too happy with either, so it was up to Jim to try another style. He pushed her hair back slightly, and brushed it. He was about to brush it forwards when Eleven suddenly spoke.

"I like that." She said, looking at her smiling reflection. It was the first time Jim saw her fully smile, not just the flight smile she'd do when someone joked. She tilted her head back to look at her father.

"Thank you," she said.  
"Don't mention it," Jim replied.

Eleven is getting up from her chair when she suddenly turns around, her tiny but strong arms wrapping around his waist. He straightens up at the surprising contact, but eases into the hug, his hand on her shoulder. They stay that way for a few moments, Jim realizing how much he missed Eleven. His dark eyes lock onto the dark blue hairband around his wrist,

Long after the hug has been abandoned, and he's been staring at the hairband, Jim knows there's something else he has to do. In one fluid motion, the hairband around his wrist comes off, and it's offered to Eleven. "Take it," he commands. She looks at him, then to it.

Eleven shook her head. She didn't know exactly the importance of the blue hairband, but she knows how important it is to him. "I can't," she whispers. She looks Jim dead in the eyes, noticing the tears that were piling in there.

Jim has to force himself not to cry. Especially not in front of her. "El," he rasps out, his throat tightening. "I want you to have this." He leans lower to her level, looking her in the eye. He's known her long enough to know that she's not confused at the hairband, but the action itself.

"Why?" She asks, her eyes unmoving from his. Jim doesn't have an answer to that; he only knows he wants her to have it.

"Because," he begins. He's racking his brain for an answer. Then, it suddenly hits him. "Because you're important to me, kid."

The moment takes them both by surprise. It was an unspoken truth, however. El's eyes are wide, and tears are prickling at the corner of her eyes. This time it's Jim that hugs her, even if it feels unnatural and awkward at first; he hasn't hugged anyone in years.

"Hey," he rasps again, taking her shoulders and holding him close to him. "Don't cry, your make-up is going to run." He's half laughing, wanting to cry as well. He smiles a bit once he hears her laughing at his comment. When they both pull away, not only is Eleven amiling, but so was Jim.

She stretches her hand out, flexing her wrist. Jim slides the hairband down it, admiring her completed Snow Ball outfit. In the end, she told Jim she didn't like nail polish, so that was omitted. But the rest of her hair and make-up had turned out stunning, if he did say so himself.

"You ready?" He asks. Once she nods, he grabs his jacket off the chair, the cigarettes jostling in the pocket. He helps her load into the truck, starting down the road to the school.

"You nervous?" He asks, breaking the silence about half a mile down.

"Nervous?"  
"It means scared... are you scared?"

She looks towards him, almost parroting his tone perfectly, "we don't get scared."

His lip quirks in a smug smirk. "No, no we don't."

The rest of the ride to the school is in silence, and soon enough they pull up into the parking lot. Eleven watches the kids piling into the front doors, playing with her hands on her lap. It's her first time being out, especially with so many people.

Jim puts a reassuring hand on El's shoulder. "Knock 'em dead," Her head whips up, flashing him a wide eye look. It takes a moment for Jim to realize what exactly he said. "It's a saying." He follows up quickly. "Wow them, kid."

It seems his words strike a chord with her. She nods surely, reaching for the car door handle. But before her hand touches it, he has by the shoulder again.

"And remember... arm length."

He smiles a bit as she nods back at him, mirroring his serious look and repeating his words. "Arm length."


End file.
